Jigsaw People
by Unidentified Pie
Summary: A series of drabbles, mini fics, and tumblr prompts. 3. A sword has never been Sakamoto Tatsuma's weapon of choice. (Mutsu, Sakamoto, and old scars.)
1. Shooting Stars

Gintoki stands at the top of a hill, the night wind carding fingers through his messy hair and his eyes fixed on the glimmer of stars in the tar sky. There's a grin spreading across his face that he can't seem to stop.

Kagura is laughing, the sound like wind chimes in the breeze, and Shinpachi is calling to them both - his words are being carried away by the wind, but that doesn't matter because Gintoki can hear the smile in his voice.

They had plans to watch the meteor shower from the roof of their apartment, but at the last minute someone had called the Yorozuya with a job. Gintoki had volunteered to go on his own, so that the brats could watch it anyway, but Kagura had clenched her fists and Shinpachi had clenched his jaw, and they'd followed because "we need to watch it together, Gin-chan, it won't be any fun otherwise!"

So they're here, barely a mile from where they finished their job, at the top of a deserted hill, and it's cold and windy and the stupid brats are going to catch colds, Gintoki is almost certain; and he'll have to watch over them all day and bring them soup and they'll probably infect him with their germs. But for now Kagura is laughing, stretching her arms out and spinning in circles across the hill, and Shinpachi has a smile stretching across his entire face - and it's _worth_ it; no matter how much Gintoki will deny it later, it's worth all this and more.

He drops to the ground, leaning back on his arms. Damp grass prickles at his palms and he grins, ignoring the sky to watch Kagura and Shinpachi dance across the hill. They're laughing, pointing out stars and shouting wishes, and their eyes are shining brighter than any shooting star ever could.

There's a huff of air behind him and a sudden warmth at his back. Gintoki blinks and turns to see Sadaharu curled like a giant pillow behind him - he grins, shifting back to lean against the dog's furry side and lacing his fingers behind his head. Kagura and Shinpachi drop by his sides, and before he can get a word out Kagura is nestled against his right and Shinpachi is fitting comfortably along the lines of his left, solid and warm.

Something warm and soft rises in the pit of his belly and Gintoki swallows a smile.

"Make a wish, Gin-chan, make a wish!"

"Hahh? Only children believe in wishes, brats."

"That's mean!" Kagura slams a fist into Gintoki's chest, punch pulled so it doesn't do more than sting.

"Aa, I don't need a wish. They never come true, anyway."

"Oh yeah?" Shinpachi slides a look over at him, bright sparks of mischief in his eyes. He raises his hand and points one finger at a falling star. "I wish that Gin-san would make a wish."

"Oi, oi, don't waste a wish on stupid things like that, dammit-"

"Come on, Gin-chan, don't be mean! Make Shinpachi's wish come true!"

" _Haah_? Why'd I gotta do something like that?"

"Look, Gin-chan, there's another star, make a wish, hurry up, hurry up-"

"Gin-san, don't be mean, don't make it a wasted star-"

"Ahhh, you noisy brats! Fine, fine, I wish for parfait for breakfast tomorrow, alright? Geez, you troublesome little-" Shinpachi and Kagura are laughing, leaning against sides, ribs rising and falling in gasping delighted breaths (and they're such children, they're so young and innocent and warm and happy and it makes Gintoki feel like he's _drowning_ , in something warm and tender and so fiercely defensive it makes his chest _ache_ ). "What?" he asks, irritation in his voice because he's not going to come across as _soft_ , dammit.

"Gin-san, you said that wishes don't come true." Shinpachi slumps against Gintoki, shoulders shaking, still giggling breathlessly.

"Haa? They don't, what are you-"

"But Gin-chan, you made Shinpachi's wish come true!" Kagura beams, a big wide grin that shows all her teeth and makes her eyes dance like blue fire.

"That doesn't count, dammit!"

"Why not? It was a wish, right? It came true, right?" Shinpachi grins at him, brown eyes wide and shining, a grin taking over his whole face. "Why wouldn't it count?"

Gintoki blinks, looking up at the sky, then he slumps against Sadaharu, shoulders drooping in resignation. A smile begins to stretch across his face and he huffs out a sigh. "Brats," he says, and Kagura laughs, snuggling into his side as Shinpachi grins and presses closer.

For reasons he doesn't know - maybe because the night sky reminds him of a certain space-loving idiot, maybe because nostalgia is rising bittersweet against his tongue - he finds himself pointing out constellations to the two children by his sides, naming the stars and connecting the dots and grinning absurdly wide when Kagura gives up on 'those stupid messy pictures' and begins making constellations of her own - "that's one's Sadaharu, that's Sadaharu number two, that one's the mop, that's the sukonbu-"

"What the hell is the sukonbu? And why the hell are there two Sadaharus, dammit, those things look completely different!"

"Sadaharu's a dog and Sadaharu number two was a beetle, Gin-chan, don't you remember?"

In between yammering about her newly-named constellations and shouting wishes at passing stars, Kagura falls asleep against Gintoki's ribs. Shinpachi nods off shortly after, head thumping gently against the side of Gintoki's chest.

Gintoki smiles and there's that ache again, that warm tender defensive ache that makes him want to wrap his arms around these children and hold them close and shield them from all the horrors of the world. He wants to freeze time like this, just like this, with two children warm and solid and happy by his sides and the gentle breaths of a giant dog making thick fur rise and fall against his back.

He falls asleep and the last thing he sees is a pinprick of light falling though the sky.

-x-

The next morning he wakes with Kagura shoving a parfait at his face and Shinpachi laughing, loud and bright.

"Gin-chan, look, look, wishes do come true-"

"Told you so, Gin-san!"

"Brats, you were the ones who went and bought it! It doesn't count, dammit!" But there's warmth gathering in his chest and filling his lungs, making it hard to breathe. (Trying so hard to make him believe in wishes, these brats, these damn brats-)

"Of course it counts," Shinpachi says, grinning. "No one said we couldn't be the ones making the wishes come true."

Kagura beams, and there's a piece of sukonbu clamped between her teeth, her eyes a perfect match to the blue sky. "Gin-chan, come on."

Gintoki huffs out a breath, mouth curling into a smile, and takes the parfait from her.

(This has never been about fate or higher powers. This has always been about taking your life into your own hands and making your own wishes come true.)

Kagura throws herself onto the grass beside him, beaming at Sadaharu and rubbing her hands through thick white fur. Shinpachi drops beside Gintoki, drawing his knees to his chest and smiling with all the radiance of the sun-

-and the stars have long stopped falling, but Gintoki grins and looks up at the sky.

He makes a wish.

-x-

 **A/N: I hope you liked this! Please drop me a review to lemme know what you think, it would really make my day! Just one minute to make me happy for the rest of the day, isn't that cool? (And if it sucks it'd be great to know why! I'll try my best to improve!)**

 **Yep so basically this will be a series of little fics done for tumblr asks etc! Prompts are welcome, feel free to PM me or leave your idea in a review or drop me an ask on tumblr (I'm the UnidentifiedPie wherever I go)!**

 **Ahhh well thanks for reading, people! God bless! Have a great day!**


	2. Joui 3

Takasugi is muttering a litany of curses and Katsura is trying to pull long strands of wet hair from his face and Gintoki is slipping through the mud, and it's raining so hard that they can barely see.

"Who's idea was it to launch a sneak attack in this weather?" Gintoki asks, boot sinking into mud and getting stuck there; he yanks it up and it pulls away with a squelching pop. Water is running in rivulets down his arms and wind is blowing stinging needles of rain into his eyes. His hands are not bloody or blood-crusted, though, a sharp contrast from usual; he supposes that being in the natural equivalent of a car wash would have that effect.

"Yours," Katsura says, and that is an absolute lie. Gintoki would never think up something like this - he would not _willingly plan to drown_ , he doesn't even know how to _swim_.

"No way in hell, you bastard, don't try to pin your crimes on me. You're the only one that could see the storm coming, and you were saying that when it hit we should attack, you were the one going over the maps-"

"-and it worked perfectly," Katsura says, as if Gintoki didn't say a thing. "The lack of visibility worked perfectly in conjunction with our surprise attack-"

" _You made us run ten miles in the rain to kill pig-headed ugly-ass monsters_ ," Takasugi snarls, pushing sodden clumps of too-long hair out of his eyes.

"Oi, Zura, how long's it been since you last slept, huh? Are you delirious? Is that why you decided that we had to catch pneumonia? What, did you think we could all settle in the sick bay together like one big happy family and die together like old men?"

"It's not Zura, it's Katsura," Katsura says, then his foot slips on a pile of rotten leaves and rain-slick mud and he falls over, arms flailing, slamming into Gintoki and Takasugi and pitching them all, screaming, down a muddy slope.

Katsura's leg is on his head and Takasugi's sheathe is digging into a gash on his back and Gintoki's face is in a puddle of mud and rain. He pushes himself upright, wincing at the pull of new wounds, and spits mud and leaves from his mouth. "Are you trying to kill us all?! Dammit, Zura, I'm gonna drown you in a puddle - there's even a perfect head-sized puddle here for you, you stupid wig-headed moron-"

"Your face made that puddle," Takasugi puts in unhelpfully, scowling as he tries to wring out his sodden sleeves. There is no _point_ , they are just going to _get more wet_ , they haven't slept in oh-hell-he-doesn't-even-know how many days, and Katsura is apparently going to drown them all in mud and leaves and rain unless they kill him first. Gintoki is sick of this, or maybe that's just the mud and possible slugs he swallowed when his face was being smashed into the waterlogged soil.

"Screw this," he declares, and trudges off into the trees in search of shelter. If lighting strikes the tree and sets them all on fire, well, at least they won't be so damned wet. (Or maybe they'll be wet and electrocuted _and_ on fire, knowing their damned luck, but at least the heavens will get a good laugh.)

"It was a good plan," Katsura says, catching up. He's favouring his left leg and the rain running down his arm is pink-tinted, has been pink-tinted for hours despite the rain because he's still freaking bleeding. Gintoki is so tired of this. "No one died in this mission - the three of us took out the whole camp without any support."

He is so tired, so sick, and he blames the rain, the lack of sleep, the slugs and mud and rain and-

"Shut up," he says dully. "I know that, dammit."

Takasugi is walking beside them, hacking up bits of rotted leaves. It's a dry, rasping cough and he's had it for damned days, he shouldn't have come on this stupid water-infused mission, but he refused to be left behind.

He's an idiot, Katsura is an idiot, Gintoki is an idiot. They're all idiots and they haven't slept for at least two days - but the day before the mission Katsura was going over plans, steely-eyed and expression made of stone, Takasugi was on watch, and Gintoki was scouting in preparation for this mission, so that makes three, and before that-

-Gintoki concludes that he can't remember the last time he slept, can't remember the last time any of them slept. He drops to the ground exhaustedly, beneath a tree that at least blocks most of the rain, and decides that he will not move until they all get some thrice-damned rest. The gash on his back throbs with wet pounding pulses of pain and the skin his left forearm has been shredded by steel blades.

"The hell are you doing?" Takasugi snarls. "Get the hell up, we've got to go back to camp."

"Shut up and sit down, Bakasugi, I'm tired."

"We're all tired, you bastard, get up-"

Gintoki pitches a rock at his head and watches him topple over. The idiot was really tired after all. "I'm not moving until the rain stops. Get some sleep, we'll take turns keeping watch."

Takasugi grumbles, but sits, and Gintoki doesn't miss the quick look he casts at Katsura - he's worried about them, too, even if the idiot won't admit it. "I'll take first watch," Takasugi says.

"No way, I claimed first watch. Oi, Zura, sit the hell down before we make you."

"It's not Zura, it's Katsura, and you should get up. We must get back as fast as possible, we need to organise the next-"

Gintoki sighs and stands, and when Katsura nods approvingly and turns to go, he and Takasugi tackle Katsura to the ground.

They lie there for a moment, Gintoki and Takasugi sprawled over Katsura and Katsura flat on the floor.

"Get off me," Katsura yelps. "We need to go back!"

"Do you want to drown in a puddle, Zura?" Gintoki asks. "I'm not moving until it stops raining, so you might as well get some sleep."

"Fine," Katsura says, and Gintoki is vaguely surprised by how quickly he changed his mind, until he realises that Katsura must be worried and tired, too. "Get off me, I can't sleep buried beneath you idiots."

Gintoki drags himself upright and trudges back to the tree; Katsura sighs and staggers over, leaning his back against the trunk and sliding down exhaustedly.

Gintoki sits and Takasugi drops to the ground by Katsura's other side, leaning his back against Katsura's arm and slouching over like he's about to fall asleep.

"I got some sleep the other day, you know," Katsura says. "I can take watch."

Gintoki's eyes are already drifting shut and he forces them open - he will not be the reason they all get killed, dammit.

"Liar," he says, and his voice comes out dull and slurred. "You were planning, then-"

"I fell asleep on the map," Katsura says, and Gintoki remembers that, remembers gleefully timing Katsura getting at least four hours of sleep, and-

-oh.

Gintoki remembers, now. Katsura had been stupidly tired, bags under his eyes and face drawn and pale, and he'd been obsessing over plans for days, saying that there should be a storm coming and when and if it hit they could attack the enemy base, but if it didn't work they'd have to have a counter plan; and then he'd fallen asleep in the middle of planning, and Gintoki had left him to sleep and Takasugi had dismissed the soldiers, and they had stolen a map from who knew where and poured over tactics together all night (and they'd never plan as brilliantly as Katsura, they'd never be prodigies or geniuses, but Takasugi had his years of high-end education and Gintoki had years of fighting behind him, and together they'd done alright).

"Oh," he says, eyes heavy, drifting shut. "You shouldn't have let us plan, look what happened-"

"I told you," Katsura says, "the plan worked perfectly."

Gintoki readjusts himself; lies on the mud by Katsura's side, resting his head on Katsura's outstretched leg and drawing a hand up to his hair, cradling his sword in the curve of his arm. "Oh," he says, already drifting asleep, safe and warm (and there has to be some irony in the fact that he feels safer, more relaxed out in the open than in a tent in a guarded camp, but in the camp there are grown men who look at fifteen-year-old boys and see the demon, the commander, the general, who have never actually seen the children, the idiots, the friends. Here he is among friends, and no one expects anything from him but friendship in return.

And friendship, he can give.)

He hears Takasugi shift on Katsura's other side and feels Katsura adjust his weight, then everything goes still and calm.

And it's still raining, but the patter of raindrops is a lullaby rather than an irritation, and Gintoki feels warm.

* * *

 **A/N: Done for the ask 'joui 3 friendship' on tumblr. ^.^ Thanks for reading guys, please lemme know what you think! It means a lot to me. :)**

 **Prompts and requests are still welcome! Have a great day and God bless!**


	3. Sakamoto

"How did you get it?" Mutsu asks, looking at Sakamoto's arm. Sakamoto runs a hand over the rough, puckered edges of the knotted tissue, and his smile turns into something thin and tired. Mutsu does not regret much - there is no point in regret (and when she told this to Sakamoto he laughed and said that Kintoki said the same thing, a long time ago, but that the idiot regretted things anyway - her captain's smile was a regret of its own, fond and sad).

Mutsu does not regret much, but she regrets asking this.

"I was stupid," he says, and grins at her, like his blue eyes aren't steely with pain, skies made of metal and ice. "Kintoki and Bakasugi and Zura always said that we couldn't save everyone. Ahahaha, they're such hypocrites, right?"

Her captain is smiling, because he always smiles, but there is something painful and closed-off in his eyes and his grin, like steel doors pulled shut and paneled with bulletproof glass. Mutsu wonders what sort of stupidity (kindness, loyalty, fire-fierce devotion) it was - if it was idiocy or kindness or Sakamoto's own unique blend of the two - if Sakamoto is _capable_ of being anything less than foolishly, self-sacrificially kind. (And the answer is no, the answer is no and was no and will always be _no_ , because leopards don't change their spots and Sakamoto will never know how to be anything else.)

She shrugs, pulls her hat down over her eyes, and mutters something about stupidity and fools. Sakamoto laughs; "Ahahaha! Don't be mean, I learnt my lesson!"

No, he hasn't. He hasn't learnt his lesson and never will, and if he could give away every piece of himself to save someone else he would do it in a heartbeat. But he's her captain, dammit, captains have to live, captains have to lead - he is an idiot but he is Mutsu's captain, and that is important on a visceral level, a pull even stronger than her blood.

"You haven't," she informs him. "You've just got a whole crew of idiots to join you, now."

And Sakamoto just laughs, eyes scrunched shut behind his sunglasses so that she cannot read what he is thinking. "That's a bad idea, what if they end up like me?"

Mutsu wonders if he worries, wonders if he's terrified that the whole crew of idiots will end up injured because of a stupid mistake he made.

She has never been one to take risks. "That isn't so bad, is it? This life isn't so bad either way. Idiots have to stick together to survive."

And this time- this time when her captain smiles, it's sharp-edged like the sword he left behind on a bloodied battlefield, white teeth flashing like steel beneath the sun.

(Sakamoto's sword was never the metal piece he kept in a scabbard by his side. Mutsu's captain is stronger than that, is better - his weapons are lighting thoughts and a silver tongue and laughter that pushes insults and failure off him to make it look like he doesn't hurt. His weapons are anything he can swindle or talk or bargain out of people: money, weapons, emotions.)

These are Sakamoto's weapons; these are the weapons of the captain of the Kaientai:

Loyalty and friendship, bought with loyalty in equal measure (more, more because he would die, would damn himself a million times over for them, and Mutsu knows it better than most) and devotion and kindness so fierce they could swallow the entire world.

-x-

The next time they offend a client, the Amanto returns a week later with a group of mercenaries behind it.

Sakamoto laughs, loading his gun and slipping extra ammunition into his coat pocket. (Extra ammunition, four different explosives, a knife, and a mocha bun.)

"Ahahaha," he says, as his crew gathers behind him, hundreds of men and women falling behind their captain, warmer and stronger and better and more loyal than any mercenary in the universe. Their eyes are as sharp and hard as the swords Sakamoto can no longer wield and their hands (ten of them, thirty of them, seventy of them) hold blades in their captain's stead.

And Mutsu stands beside her captain, beside the man with eyes the colour of the sky and a heart just as wide, her hand on her sword and his finger on the trigger of his gun.

(Sakamoto could never make them do anything they do not want to do, but she and the Kaientai would do absolutely anything for their captain. A sword has never been Sakamoto Tatsuma's weapon of choice.

A samurai without a sword is still deadly, but Sakamoto is more deadly than most.)

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Done for the ask "Sakamoto" for the fic meme! Posted cause saturnaway was a little sad bout the lack of Sakamoto so I figured why not. I am still open to asks and requests, guys, please hit me up, and please drop a review on the way out if you've got time, it'd really make my day!**

 **Thanks for reading and God bless!**


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